


SPN drabbles

by felisblanco



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, M/M, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-05-02
Updated: 2009-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-21 04:10:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 13,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10677405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: Drabbles of various length, rating, and pairing. Some include translations in Russian. Beware of warnings for character death in some of them (look for notes at the beginning of each chapter).





	1. Chapter 1

Sam/Dean for [](http://hildigunnur.livejournal.com/profile)[**hildigunnur**](http://hildigunnur.livejournal.com/). Icon by [](http://nyaubaby.livejournal.com/profile)[**nyaubaby**](http://nyaubaby.livejournal.com/). 100 words

**Holding On To You**

Sometimes when Dean looks at Sam all he sees is Sammy. It slips out, that name, at the worst of times when he needs to see Sam, to trust in _Sam_. But it’s “Sammy” that he says, only seeing his little brother underneath the stranger’s skin he’s wearing.

“Sammy,” he says when Sam’s eyes turn too dark for comfort.  
“Sammy,” he shouts at his brother’s retreating back.  
“Sammy,” he whispers into damp skin that still smells of smoke and baby powder, twenty-three years later.  
“Sammy, Sammy,” he chants with every thrust.

“Dean,” Sam moans, but it doesn’t mean the same.

 

"Держась за тебя" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/)

Иногда, глядя на Сэма, Дин видит только Сэмми. Имя проскальзывает, появляется в самое неподходящее время, когда ему нужно видеть Сэма, доверять Сэму. Но он говорит: "Сэмми" и видит только своего младшего брата в незнакомце перед собой.

Сэмми, говорит он, когда глаза Сэма становятся опасно черными.  
Сэмми, кричит он в спину уходящего брата.  
Сэмми, шепчет он во влажную кожу, которая по прежнему пахнет дымом и детской присыпкой, даже двадцать три года спустя.  
Сэмми, Сэмми, тянет он, толкаясь в него.

Дин, стонет Сэм, но это не одно и то же.

 

 

 

Sam/Dean for [](http://dancetomato.livejournal.com/profile)[**dancetomato**](http://dancetomato.livejournal.com/). Icon by [](http://nadya149.livejournal.com/profile)[**nadya149**](http://nadya149.livejournal.com/). 100 words.

**Breathe While I'm Falling**

It’s fascinating, Sam thinks, watching Dean’s quiet struggle every time they do this. His eyelashes flutter – down, up – briefly veiling eyes that still can’t look away. Dark, so dark and so needy. His mouth is open, lungs pulling in breath that’s too quiet for Sam to hear, every ounce of air calculated and filled with wonder - or maybe guilt, Sam is never sure. Dean’s cheeks are flushed, pink stains spreading to the tips of his ears and down the hollow of his throat.

He comes without a sound but Sam can still read his name on Dean’s lips.

 

"Дыши, пока я падаю" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/))

Это завораживает, думает Сэм, наблюдая за молчаливой борьбой в Дине каждый раз, когда они делают это. Ресницы дрожат — вверх, вниз — едва скрывая жадный взгляд. Темный, темный и отчаянный. Рот открыт, легкие едва слышно втягивают воздух, каждый вдох тщательно рассчитан и полон удивления, а может вины — Сэм не уверен. На щеках Дина растекается румянец, почти до кончиков ушей и вниз по шее.

Он кончает без единого звука, но Сэм легко может прочитать свое имя на губах Дина.


	2. Chapter 2

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000x8k69/) for [](http://raynedanser.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://raynedanser.livejournal.com/)**raynedanser**. Sam/Dean. 100 words

**This Is What I've Done To You**

The wind changes and Dean looks up to find his little brother gone.  
  
Despite his height, Sam’s always been just a boy to Dean. An innocent boy who carries a grain of hope in his heart and looks to Dean for courage.

Today he looks old. Tired. Wary of the world and all it’s taught him.

Dean wishes he could start all over again. This time he’d run. Not wait for dad, just run until he’d find a safe place for baby Sammy. Safe from demons and endless death.

But above all safe from Dean, stealing Sam’s last remaining innocence.

 

"То, что я с тобой сделал" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Ветер меняется. Дин поднимает глаза и понимает, что младшего брата больше нет.

Независимо от роста Сэм всегда оставался для Дина мальчишкой. Невинным мальчишкой, у которого есть зернышко надежды в сердце и старший брат как образец храбрости.

Теперь он выглядит старым. Уставшим. Остерегающимся мира и горьких плодов познания.

Дин мечтает повернуть время вспять и начать сначала. Тогда бы он убежал. Не стал бы ждать отца, а просто убежал и нашел бы укрытие для крошки Сэмми. Укрытие от демонов и бесконечных смертей.

Укрытие от самого Дина, лишившего Сэма последних следов невинности.

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000x6hk4/) for [](http://winchestergirl.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://winchestergirl.livejournal.com/)**winchestergirl**. Sam/Dean. 100 words

**This Is What You Do to me**

The hoarseness of Dean’s voice the morning after makes Sam wince. He wants to reach out and run his fingers over Dean’s throat. Wants to assure himself it’s not that bad.

Dean gurgles and spits into the sink, spattering the white porcelain with pink drops.

Sam looks away. He wants to say, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Why didn’t you stop me?’ and ‘I didn’t even know I wanted that’.

He says, “You done yet?”

Dean grins and wipes his mouth on Sam’s sleeve. Sam doesn’t know which is worse; Dean’s easy forgiveness or the desire to do it all over again.

 

"То, что ты со мной делаешь" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Сэм вздрагивает, когда слышит хриплый голос Дина следующим утром. Он хочет протянуть руку и коснуться пальцами горла брата; хочет убедиться, что все в порядке.

Дин полощет горло и сплевывает в раковину, на белом фарфоре повисают розовые капли.

Сэм отворачивается. Он хочет сказать: "Прости", и "Почему ты меня не остановил?", и "Я и сам не знал, что хочу этого".

Вместо этого он спрашивает: — Закончил?

Дин ухмыляется и вытирает рот о рукав сэмовой рубашки. Сэм даже не знает, что хуже: то, как Дин легко прощает или то, что он хочет все повторить.

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000x7ygr/) for [](http://deirdre-c.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://deirdre-c.livejournal.com/)**deirdre_c**. Sam/Dean. 100 words.

**And Nothing You Say Will Stop Me**

Sam comes home early. That’s the reason. He comes home early and walks in on Dean unbuttoning his ruined shirt. The tie is still around his neck, straightened but too tight, and two buttons are missing at his chest. Even without the fingershaped bruises staining his hips Sam would have known.  
  
He doesn’t say anything. Just stands there, breathing harshly, until Dean looks away and then he’s gone, slamming the door behind him. Dean closes his eyes for a second. Then grabs their bags and starts packing. By the time the cops find the bodies they better be long gone.

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000x9fed/) for [](http://minniemax.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://minniemax.livejournal.com/)**minniemax**. Alec/Sam. SPN/Dark Angel X-over. 200 words.

**Am I His Brother's Keeper?**

Damnit. He’s not supposed to care. Not about some kid he doesn’t even know and has no relations to except apparently bearing a shocking resemblance to the guy’s dead brother. And isn’t that all kinds of creepy, considering the naked situation they’ve got going at the moment?

Any other day he’d be out the door and halfway home by now - post-coital crying isn’t really his thing - but there’s just something about the kid that is giving him some stupid feeling of responsibility. The guy’s clearly insane, keeps blabbering on about time travels and some crossroad he needs to get to. Obviously he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere because this is a long way from Cold Oak, wherever the hell that is.

He better take the kid, Sam something or other, to Logan, see if he can track down his relatives. He’s got to have someone, somewhere. He can’t stay here, not after knocking down those soldiers who mistook him for an X. With those kinda moves, who can blame them?

So yeah, better get on that. As soon as the kid’s calmed down a bit.

So far riding him like a pony seems to be doing the trick.


	3. Caught In The Act

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000sr36x/) for [](http://users.livejournal.com/woman-of-/profile)[**woman_of_**](http://users.livejournal.com/woman-of-/) Icon by [](http://thesuthernangel.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://thesuthernangel.livejournal.com/)**thesuthernangel** 100 words. Gen.

**Caught In The Act**

It’s not funny. It really isn’t. Seriously, there’s nothing remotely amusing about it.

Except maybe the look on the guy’s face when he realizes he’s been caught red handed. Or possibly the look on his _girlfriend’s_ face when _she_ realizes what he’s doing. And Jesus, the shocked shriek of his _mother_ when she accidentally walks in on the whole mess. But really, the dog rushing forward and starting to lick it all up only to have everyone yell at it hysterically and trying to drag it away? Yeah, that kinda seals it.

Best thing though? Finally hearing Sam laughing again.

 


	4. The Power of Sam Compels You

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000sqc13/) for [](http://nashmaveric.livejournal.com/profile)[**nashmaveric**](http://nashmaveric.livejournal.com/). Icon by [](http://clouds-of-white.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://clouds-of-white.livejournal.com/)**clouds_of_white** Sam/Dean. 400 words.

 

**The Power of Sam Compels You**

She’s watching him again, all young hope and innocence. Boobs bursting out of her top, jeans slung so low on her hips it’s a miracle they stay on. Dean offers her an awkward smile and sips his beer, feeling Sam’s eyes burning the back of his neck from across the room. Briefly Dean wonders if Sam can do that now, brand guilt into his brother’s skin just by staring at him. It makes him shiver, the ‘If’ followed by ‘Why?’ and images of ‘What else?’

He tries his best to apologize – with the slope of his shoulders, a slight shift of his hips, moving further away from Jo’s heated gaze and cheerful chatter – but Sam clears his throat, wordlessly conveying it’s not enough. ‘Get rid of her!’ he commands, as clear as if he’s yelling it across the room. Dean wants to turn around, shoot his own glare of ‘I’m not _doing_ anything, you jealous freak!’ but then Jo lays a hand on his arm, clutching it as if she’s entitled.

This time he can _definitely_ feel it. A slight shift in the air, like a draft at the back of his neck. Even Jo looks around, a puzzled frown on her face. The Roadhouse offers many things but fresh air ain’t one of them. When she turns back, her smile changes from hopeful to sure and that’s when Dean realizes he’s neglected to pull away.

Crap.

“Dean,” Jo says, all warm happiness, and the temperature in the room instantly drops from drafty to downright freezing.

_Double_ crap.

“Maybe we should…” she continues oblivious and Dean panics.

“I’m gay,” he blurts out and this time _everything_ seems to freeze. Her hand on his arm, the shocked look in her eyes. The words she were about to say hover in the air like icicles.

“ _What?_ ” she finally says, incredulous.

“Yeah. I’m…” He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck, flushed and seriously _hating_ Sam. “Uhm… You know. Sorry.”

She lets abruptly go and slides off the stool, shooting him an angry glare before moving over to the other end of the bar where she starts wiping the counter with far more vigor than its rather clean surface calls for.

Dean quickly empties his beer. His reputation’s probably shot to shit but, judging by the grateful (if somewhat amused) heat now radiating from Sam, he’ll be compensated soon enough.

fin


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for non-con

**Payback's A Bitch**  
Demon!Dean/Ruby for [](http://evilmaniclaugh.livejournal.com/profile)[**evilmaniclaugh**](http://evilmaniclaugh.livejournal.com/) 200 words. Warnings for non-con.

First thing he smells when he crawls out of Hell is Sam. No more than a hundred miles away, his desperation vibrating the air, as tangible as raindrops. For a moment he hovers, feeling the pull of his need for Sam, the one thing that got him out, but right now there are more urgent things than Sam’s grief to deal with.

He turns north instead, following the scent of that treacherous bitch until he finds her holed up in a motel so sleazy even Dean wouldn’t have been caught dead there.

He wraps the fingers of his left hand around her throat, squeezing so tight she’d be dead if she needed to breathe. His right hand keeps her wrists easily pinned above her head despite her frantic struggle. He fucks her hard and fast. She bucks and writhers, cursing him with a choked up voice even as she’s coming, wet pussy clenching around him tighter than a whore like her should manage. Her head hits the floor - eyes open, their blackness replaced by surprise - before he’s even pulled out, and he throws the machete carelessly aside.

Now that’s taken care of, he has a brother to visit.

 

 

**For the Very First Time**  
Sam/Jess, implied Sam/Dean for [](http://thehighwaywoman.livejournal.com/profile)[**thehighwaywoman**](http://thehighwaywoman.livejournal.com/) 100 words

Their first time is awkward to say the least. He doesn’t know where to put his hands and whatever he tries to grab on to it’s too hard, too rough, and he can almost feel bruises beginning to blossom under his fingertips.

“I’m sorry, sorry,” he stutters and pets her hair, getting his bracelet entangled and she flinches as he rips it loose. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

Afterwards he lies staring up at the ceiling, silent and humiliated.

“Sam,” Jess finally asks. “Am… Am I your first?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, not really lying. After all, with Dean he always bottomed.

 

 

  
**Violated**  
Sam/Meg (kinda), implied Sam/Dean for [](http://delphinapterus.livejournal.com/profile)[**delphinapterus**](http://delphinapterus.livejournal.com/). 200 words. Warnings for non-con.

Sometimes he thinks he can still feel her, deep inside. Her smug laughter echoing in his chest, making it feel hollow and cold. Her hands, his hands, touching him against his will, so familiar and still so wrong.

She’d liked that, feeling him mentally struggle as she wrapped her fingers around his dick and jerked him off. Just like she’d done that time in the warehouse…

They’re back now, the nightmares about that, worse than before. He wakes up sweaty and panicked from dreams where they didn’t get loose and she… She…

His stomach turns.

He hates his fear almost as much as he hates his dick for betraying him, again.

“That’s ‘cause you liked it,” she whispers and laughs when he stumbles to the bathroom, only just reaching there in time. “You wanted it, Sam.”

“I didn’t!” he chokes out, too loud, waking Dean up.

“You okay in there, Sam?” he asks, wary. Has been ever since Sam got back, subdued and flinching from Dean’s touch.

“Yeah,” Sam says. “It’s nothing.”

“And to think if they hadn’t thrown me out, I’d have fucked him for you,” she purrs and he’s back to heaving, cock rock-hard between his legs.


	6. Chapter 6

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000pewa7/) for [](http://minniemax.livejournal.com/profile)[**minniemax**](http://minniemax.livejournal.com/). Icon by [](http://wander-lust-79.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://wander-lust-79.livejournal.com/)**wander_lust_79**. Sam/Dean. 100 words.

 

**Clothes Make The Man**

 

Dean’s not really sure if Bela’s reaction to the damn monkey suit was genuine or not. God knows he doesn’t feel anything but stupid in the damn thing. The collar’s too tight, the damn bowtie makes him look like a waiter and the goddamn pants fucking itch! Whoever rented this thing last better not have had some gross STD or something.

Frankly he doesn’t get why chicks dig this kind of clothes. They’re stupid and constricting and… Not like anyone looks good in them. Give him jeans and a t any day over thi-

“Look, there’s Sam.”

Oh. Holy. Shit.

 

"Подлецу все к лицу" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Дин не совсем уверен в искренности Бэлы, когда появляется в чертовом смокинге. Бог свидетель, он чувствует себя идиотом в дурацком наряде. Воротничок жмет, галстук-бабочка делает его похожим на официанта, а проклятые брюки, блядь, колются! Остается надеяться, что у последнего владельца этой мерзости не было вшей или чего похуже.

Честно говоря, он не понимает, почему цыпочки тащатся от смокингов. Дурацкие, тесные и... Да они никому не идут! Что может быть лучше джинсов и футбо...

— А вот и Сэм.

О-хре-неть.

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000pf37b/) for [](http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/890709.html#)[](http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/890709.html#)**bittersweat_art** Her own icon. Implied Sam/Dean. 500 words

 

**Flimsy Curtains and Broken Glass**

 

If the saying is true that the eyes are the windows to the soul, then looking into Dean’s eyes is like being in a house with different views on every side.

The front faces acres of green fields. An empty road cuts through it, stretching to the horizon. There’s a faint smell of gas in the air, as well as of burgers and the fat scent of fries. Somewhere a radio is playing Led Zeppelin. A girl sits on the porch, beer in her hand, and when Sam pushes his nose up against the glass to get a better look, she turns around and gives him a come-hither smile. She’s wearing a thin summer dress and the sun bounces off her hair.

When Sam walks over to the windows on the right side of the house the sun is gone. There’s a dark forest outside. Half the trees are dead and the air smells of smoke. In the distance a wolf is howling and when Sam peeks through the flimsy curtains he sees dark shadows slipping through the trees. Unlike the front view, this one doesn’t make him feel uncomfortable, because this one isn’t an illusion. This actually _is_ their life. This he knows. _This_ he can handle.

Crossing the floor brings Sam to the left side of the house. When he pulls the heavy curtains aside most times he sees nothing. But occasionally, once in a blue moon, the lights are turned on and he’s looking into a big empty grey room, attached to the house. It’s always silent in there, heartbreakingly so, but he can smell something sweet, like milk and honey. Thrown into the corner lies an abandon teddy bear, its glassy eyes staring blindly at Sam, as if it’s still waiting for its owner to come pick it up. Once Sam thought he saw the shadow of a boy stretching toward it but it was gone in the blink of an eye and he’s never seen it again.

Sam doesn’t know what lies behind the house. The windows are nailed shut with thick boards, and whatever is out there it’s too dark to see through the tiny cracks in the wood. He can smell though. Coffee and shaving cream and the faint smell of sweat. Something else he should know but can’t put his finger on. When he puts his ear to the wood he hears someone laughing. It makes him feel warm for some reason, right down to the pit of his stomach. Further. He can’t help wondering what he’d see if he managed to pry those boards away. What it is Dean is keeping locked up so tight in his heart, he won’t let Sam catch even a glimpse.

“Stop staring at me,” Dean says, sounding more wary than annoyed. “Freak.” He follows their waitress with his eyes, now field green and sparkling, and lightly adds, “Now that’s something to look at.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, his gaze never leaving Dean. “Yeah, it is.”

 

"Тайны и разбитое зеркало" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Если глаза человека и правда зеркало души, то заглянув в глаза Дина можно увидеть целый дом с зеркалами. Но в каждом свое отражение.

В первом отражаются бесконечные зеленые поля. Среди них до самого горизонта вьется пустынная дорога. Воздух слегка пахнет бензином, а также бургерами и картошкой. Где-то по радио играют Led Zeppelin. На крыльце сидит девушка с бутылкой пива в руке, и когда Сэм прижимает нос к стеклу, чтобы рассмотреть ее получше, то она поворачивается и дарит ему соблазнительную улыбку. На ней легкое летнее платье, а в волосах играет солнце.

В зеркале справа солнца нет. В нем видно только темный лес. Воздух пахнет дымом, а половина деревьев мертвы. Вдалеке воет волк, и, присмотревшись, Сэм замечает, как между деревьев скользят тени. Однако, в отличие от первого отражения, он не чувствует неловкости, ведь это не иллюзия. Это на самом деле их жизнь. С этим он знаком. И может справиться.

Пересекая комнату, Сэм подходит к левой стене. Зеркало закрыто тяжелой занавеской, обычно, отодвинув ее, он ничего не видит. Но иногда, раз в сто лет, в отражении горит свет, и он может разглядеть большую пустую серую комнату. Там всегда тихо, душераздирающе тихо, но он чувствует сладковатый запах, похожий на мед и молоко. В углу валяется брошенный плюшевый мишка. Он смотрит на Сэма пустыми стеклянными глазами, словно ждет, когда же вернется его хозяин. Однажды Сэму показалось, что он заметил рядом с медвежонком тень мальчика, но тот исчез в мгновение ока и больше не появлялся.

Сэм не знает, что скрывает зеркало на дальней стене дома. Оно забито толстыми досками, а в отражении слишком темно, чтобы можно было разглядеть хоть что-то сквозь крошечные щели в дереве. Но зато он чувствует запах. Кофе, крем для бритья, немного пота. Что-то еще, что он точно знает, но никак не может уловить. Если прижать ухо к доскам, то можно услышать смех. Странно, но от этого смеха по телу разливается тепло, сворачиваясь клубком в животе. И ниже. Он не может не гадать, что же он увидит, если сорвет доски с зеркала. Что же Дин хранит так глубоко в своем сердце, что Сэму не позволено увидеть даже мельком?

— Прекрати пялиться на меня, — говорит Дин, больше настороженно, чем раздраженно, — псих. Он провожает официантку глазами, в которых сияют бесконечные зеленые поля, и легко добавляет: — А тут есть на что посмотреть.

— Ага, — отвечает Сэм, не отрывая взгляда от Дин, — ага, есть.

 

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000pgpxd/) for [](http://crazyjoyfulgirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**crazyjoyfulgirl**](http://crazyjoyfulgirl.livejournal.com/) Icon by [](http://syxstring.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://syxstring.livejournal.com/)**syxstring**. Sam/Dean. 400 words

 

**Because It's You**

 

Sometimes – when Sam’s reciting his latest findings for their current case, or is wondering out loud what kind of people could _possibly_ be cheesy enough to carve their initials drawn inside a _heart_ into the wall in this complete _craphole_ of a motel, or maybe even when he’s just half-heartedly bitching about Dean’s refusal to eat _anything_ resembling green – he’ll look up and catch Dean watching him with this… smile.

It throws Sam completely off guard because Dean is supposed to bitch back or tell him he’s weird or a geek, or both. Not look at him all… mushy like that.

Because really, there’s no other word to describe it. Dean’s eyes are all soft and the smile’s not mocking at all, just warm and filled with such fondness it shuts Sam up instantly, his rant completely forgotten.

Which is usually when Dean realizes what he’s doing and quickly looks away, clearing his throat and muttering something insulting under his breath. There’s a moment of awkward silence and then Sam lamely tells him to ‘Shut up’ or ‘Whatever’, his stomach all hot and bubbling happily.

But not today. Today Dean holds Sam’s startled stare until he nervously rubs his nose and blushes, feeling stupidly happy when Dean’s smile softens even further.

“What?” he finally asks shyly and Dean shakes his head, still smiling.

“Nothing,” he answers, then reaches over and brushes his knuckles gently over Sam’s cheek. “Sammy.”

It’s more a sigh than a word, an almost reverent breath of affection, and Sam closes his eyes then turns his head and kisses the inside of Dean’s wrist without thinking. When he opens his eyes again, Dean is staring at him, cheeks faintly pink and lips parted in wonder.

“Sammy,” he repeats dazedly and this time it’s Sam’s turn to smile.

“Dean,” he teases, even though he doubts Dean will get the reference. After all this isn’t a moor and neither of them is wearing a dress.

But Dean smiles and mutters, “Dork,” his voice still laced with such affection it makes Sam’s insides melt.

“That’s why you love me,” he says lightly, trying to help Dean escape the uncharacteristically emotional corner he’s inadvertently painted himself into. But, instead of the expected swap to the head, Dean’s fingers uncurl at Sam’s cheek until the palm lies warm and dry against his hot and flushed skin.

“Yeah,” Dean says. “It is.”


	7. Chapter 7

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000g5r4z/) Gen for [](http://nashmaveric.livejournal.com/profile)[**nashmaveric**](http://nashmaveric.livejournal.com/) 200 words. Icon by [](http://carmendove.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://carmendove.livejournal.com/)**carmendove**

**Finders Keepers, Losers Weepers**

 

“’M sorry,” Sam sniffed. “I ran! I ran as fast as I could.”

“I know, Sammy.” Dean pressed his shirt to his brother’s bleeding knee. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Dad’s gonna be really mad.”

Sammy’s voice shivered and Dean clenched his jaw. All their grocery money now probably being spent on smokes and candy? Yeah, Dad wouldn’t like that.

“We’ll figure something out.” Fast. Dad was already on his way to pick them up.

“You boys alright? Oh. Oh my, that’s a lot of blood.”

They both looked up at the elderly lady, standing by her full grocery cart, eyes wide in alarm. Then they looked back at each other, Dean winked and Sammy started wailing.

“My leg! I think it’s broken! It hurts sooo much!”

Dean eyes filled with tears as he gazed up at the woman, lower lip trembling. “The car… It just drove away!”

“Oh sweet Lord.” She looked around in panic. “You boys stay here. I’ll go get some help.”

“I can’t feel my toes!” Sammy screamed and she broke into a run.

\------

“Still can’t understand why you bought all those prunes,” John said.

“Indigestion,” Dean mumbled and Sam almost choked on his peas.

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000g6b8q/) Sam/Dean for [](http://deirdre-c.livejournal.com/profile)[**deirdre_c**](http://deirdre-c.livejournal.com/) 100 words. Icon by [](http://famineghost.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://famineghost.livejournal.com/)**famineghost**

**Cruel and Unusual Punishment**

 

“No. No turning around.”

“Dean…” Sam begged, hands trembling where he clutched them between his knees. “Please.”

“Nuhuh. You’re the one who wanted to watch that stuff. So watch.”

“I was just…” Sam hitched his breath as the sounds of flesh on flesh sped up behind him and he tried desperately to catch his brother’s reflection in the monitor. “God, Dean. Please. I just want to touch you.”

“No,” Dean grunted and the bed started shaking from his efforts. “Not tonight.”

The girls were still licking each other’s cunts when Dean’s come hit Sam on the back of his neck.

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000g7kf7/) Sam/Dean for [](http://annkiri.livejournal.com/profile)[**annkiri**](http://annkiri.livejournal.com/) 200 words. Icon by [](http://overstreets.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://overstreets.livejournal.com/)**overstreets**

**Blind Date**

 

“How ‘bout that one?” Dean asked. “Dude, he’s gotta be gay. Just your type too.”

“Dean, for the last time, no. Stop trying to get me laid,” Sam sighed. “And what do you mean? You don’t know my type.”

“Sure I do. Short, blond…” Dean shrugged. “Obviously a geek. He’s reading. In a bar!”

Sam snorted. “First off, the hair? Fake. Second, he’s reading Playboy.”

“Hey, it’s got articles!” Dean pouted. “I’m trying to be supportive here, bro. First you tell me you’re queer…”

“Bi, Dean. I said I was bi,” Sam interrupted, lips thin.

“And then,” Dean continued undisturbed, “you tell me you’ve never even had buttsex. Pardon me for being open-minded enough to try and help you score some ass.”

Sam closed his eyes briefly in exasperation before fixing his gaze on Dean. “If I was just looking for any ass I’d have fucked Ash at the Roadhouse.”

“Ash?” Dean frowned. “Really? Huh. Though the mullet’s kinda gay.”

“Anyway,” Sam said casually. “Already have an ass in mind.”

“Yeah?” Dean leered and downed another shot, oblivious. “What ass would that b-”

“See?” Sam said later as Dean tried to catch his breath. “Not my type at all.”

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000g8bzp/) Sam/Dean implied for [](http://altyronsmaker.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://altyronsmaker.livejournal.com/)**altyronsmaker** 100 words. Her own icon.

 

**In My Dreams, I Am Damned**

 

Sam can’t sleep. These days, he never does.

Lately he doesn’t even bother undressing, just lies staring up at the ceiling until Dean’s breathing slows down to a soft whisper. Then spends the night watching his brother’s chest rise and fall, eyes moving rapidly behind thin eyelids as his lips twitch tensely. Whatever Dean’s dreams are, he never shares. Sam hopes it’s because he doesn’t remember them. Because really, what kind of dreams can they be that cause such fear in Dean’s voice whenever he mumbles Sam’s name?

Judging by Sam’s own nightmares, he’s sure he doesn’t want to know.

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000g98tz/) Sam/Dean for [](http://angstpuppy.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://angstpuppy.livejournal.com/)**angstpuppy** 100 words. Her own icon.

 

**Growing Up**

 

Sam at seventeen is more than Dean ever expected to handle. He’s growing so fast he’s leaving Dean behind, feeling annoyed and slightly awed when he has to raise his gaze to meet little Sammy’s eyes. Sam’s confidence grows in sync with his height and Dean’s heart swells with painful pride. Won’t be long until Sam won’t need him.

Sam’s getting smarter too. Not that he ever was a fool, but with age comes slyness that Dean hadn’t counted on. That must be how Sam managed to go from geeky to hot without Dean noticing until it was too late.

 

"Взрослея" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/)**wayward_jr** )

Семнадцатилетний Сэм становится для Дина сюрпризом. Он очень быстро растет, оставляя Дина позади — раздраженного и немного восхищенного тем, что ему приходится поднимать голову, чтобы встретится взглядом с малышом Сэмми. С каждым сантиметром у Сэма растет уверенность в себе, и сердце Дина наполняется болезненной гордостью. Очень скоро он станет не нужен брату.

А еще Сэм становится умнее. Он и раньше не был дураком, но с годами неожиданно появляется изворотливость. Наверное, из-за нее Сэм умудрился незаметно для Дина превратиться из зануды в горячего парня.

 


	8. Chapter 8

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000bg2ky/) Gen for [](http://stars91.livejournal.com/profile)[**stars91**](http://stars91.livejournal.com/) 100 words. Icon by [](http://kituralb.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://kituralb.livejournal.com/)**kituralb**

**His Father's Son**

One phonecall and that’s it. Dad’s leaving, just when they need him the most.

Sam gets it, he really does. Dad’s only got so many friends left and losing both Pastor Jim and Caleb like that… Sam can’t remember ever seeing his father so shaken.

So yeah, he gets it. There’s no alternative and it sucks, but him and Dean can do this alone. They’ve got the Colt now so it’s just shoot and kill, right?

It’s just…

He thought they’d do this together, him and Dad. Avenge the women they loved. And then… Then Dad would finally be proud.

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000bp2h4/) Gen for [](http://siberian-skys.livejournal.com/profile)[**siberian_skys**](http://siberian-skys.livejournal.com/) 200 words. Icon by [](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/)**bittersweet_art**

**How Far Does The Apple Fall?**

Dean’s been in the restroom for close to twenty minutes now. Sam is seriously considering just leaving his brother’s sorry ass behind and drive the Impala back to the motel when Dean finally comes out, an unreadable expression on his face as he slides into the booth.

“Thought you’d drowned in there,” Sam says but Dean doesn’t seem to be listening. He’s studying Sam, teeth biting thoughtfully into his lower lip and just when Sam’s about to ask, ‘What?’ Dean sticks out his tongue, curling it into a slide.

“Can you do this?” he says around it, words mumbled.

Sam raises his eyebrows. “Dude, what are you? Five?”

Dean doesn’t smile. “Show me.”

Sam shrugs and mimics the action. He feels stupid, like his tongue’s too big in his mouth and when he touches it with his finger it’s not curled at all, only slightly bent.

“Ok, so I can’t curl my tongue. So what? Please tell me this isn’t another ‘Why I’m Better At Pleasing Women’ Dean-ism.”

Dean just sits silent and after a moment he slides out of the booth, throwing a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “Mom and Dad couldn’t either,” he says quietly and walks out.

 

"Как далеко падает яблоко?" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Дин ушел в туалет минут двадцать назад. Сэм уже всерьез подумывает бросить жалкую задницу брата и вернуться на Импале в мотель, когда Дин появляется и с каменным лицом садится напротив.

— Думал, ты там утонул, — говорит Сэм, но Дин, похоже, не слушает. Он внимательно изучает Сэма, прихватывая зубами нижнюю губу. И только Сэм собирается спросить: «Что?», как Дин высовывает язык и сворачивает его трубочкой.

— Можешь так? — бормочет он с высунутым языком.

Сэм изгибает бровь.

— Чувак, тебе что, пять?

Дин даже не улыбается.

— Можешь?

Сэм пожимает плечами и пытается повторить. Он чувствует себя глупо с высунутым языком, тот кажется огромным и неуклюжим. Дотронувшись кончиком пальца Сэм понимает, что язык лишь чуть-чуть согнулся, и все.

— Окей, я не могу свернуть язык трубочкой. Ну и? Умоляю, скажи, что это не очередной пункт списка "Я-Лучше-Тебя-Могу-Удовлетворить-Женщину".

Дин молча сидит пару минут, потом встает из-за стола и, бросив мятую двадцатку, говорит: — Мама с папой тоже не могли.

И тихо уходит.  


 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000bqzpf/) Gen for [](http://deirdre-c.livejournal.com/profile)[**deirdre_c**](http://deirdre-c.livejournal.com/) 100 words. Icon by [](http://applepie-icons.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://applepie-icons.livejournal.com/)**applepie_icons**

 

**Hiding In Plain Sight**

 

Sam wears his size like a double camouflage.  
  
First impression is threatening. He looms over you, broad shoulders and strong arms, face hidden by long bangs. Shadows play over his eyes, making you step back, cautious of what they hide.

But then he smiles and the shadows disappear. Suddenly he’s just a young man whose calm voice and warm eyes lull you into a sense of security. ‘You can trust me,’ his whole demeanor says. ‘I just want to help.’

You’re smiling back, already tasting his blood, when the world suddenly goes black.  
You should’ve known. First impressions never lie.

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000bshww/) Sam/Dean for [](http://crazyjoyfulgirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**crazyjoyfulgirl**](http://crazyjoyfulgirl.livejournal.com/) 100 words. Icon by [](http://maybetomorrow.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://maybetomorrow.livejournal.com/)**maybetomorrow**

 

**Then and Now**

When Sam was barely a year old he hit his chin on a table, tiny front teeth cutting right through his lower lip. There was blood everywhere and Dean freaked out, throwing up all over the carpet before scrambling to the bathroom for a wet towel. Dad woke up half an hour later to a bloody apartment and his two boys sleeping red-eyed on the floor.

There’s just a thin white scar now, barely visible. Neither of them remembers how it got there but Dean likes to run his tongue over it just as Sam’s drifting off to sleep.

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000bt56e/) Sam/Dean for [](http://secondalto.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://secondalto.livejournal.com/)**secondalto** 100 words.

 

**Honeymoon in Vegas**

 

“You think this is funny?” Dean asks, voice rough like gravel.

Sam doesn’t answer, too busy trying not to choke with laughter. He opens the door to their motel room and stumbles inside as Dean shoves him hard. They freeze.

“This… oh God. Please tell me they’re fake.”

Sam picks up a rose petal and shakes his head. He looks around, shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter. Pink walls? Check. Big heart-shaped bed draped with red silk? Check. Aforementioned white rose petals spread over said silk? Check.

“Well, ‘honey’,” he chuckles. “You’re the one who said ‘anything with a bed’.”

 

"Медовый месяц в Вегасе" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

— По-твоему это смешно? — спрашивает Дин ледяным тоном.

Сэм не отвечает, лишь пытается не захлебнуться смехом. Он открывает дверь в номер и перелетает через порог от сильного толчка Дина. Они оба замирают.

— Это... Господи. Умоляю, скажи, что они не настоящие.

Сэм поднимает лепесток розы и качает головой. Он оглядывается, и плечи опять начинают трястись от смеха. Розовые стены? Есть. Огромная кровать в форме сердца с красными шелковыми простынями? Есть. Вышеупомянутые белые лепестки роз рассыпанные по простыням? Есть.

— Ну, сладкий, — смеется он. — Ты же сам сказал: «Любой номер с кроватью».

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000bwg85/) Sam/Dean for [](http://killerweasel.livejournal.com/profile)[**killerweasel**](http://killerweasel.livejournal.com/) 200 words. Icon by [](http://users.livejournal.com/-tayler/profile)[](http://users.livejournal.com/-tayler/)**_tayler**

 

**Better Than Fiction**

 

Sam fumbles for the remote but it’s too late, Dean’s halfway through the door already, the moans and grunts from the TV echoing loudly in the room. Dean freezes, the door falling shut behind him, and Sam wants nothing more than to sink through the floor.

“Awkward,” Dean finally says and walks over, glancing at the screen. “Huh.”

Fuck. “Dean…”

“So we’re watching gay porn now? Really, Sam?” Dean’s voice is too casual and Sam cringes.

“Dean,” he repeats. “I was just…”

“Nono. By all means, watch,” Dean says and lies down on the other bed, arms crossed. “Not like you have something else you could be doing. Like having actual sex. With an actual guy. Who by the way is much better looking than either of those.”

“Dude, c’mon. You’re jealous of porn?”

“I’m not jealous,” Dean huffs. “I mean, look at them. It’s like The Teeny Weenie Show. And their moaning is so fake.”

Sam suppresses a grin and turns off the TV before walking over, forcing Dean to make way for him on his bed. “Maybe you should show me how it’s really done then.”

“Oh I’ll show you,” Dean growls.

Who the hell needs porn anyway?

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000bh72z/) Sam/Dean for [](http://angstpuppy.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://angstpuppy.livejournal.com/)**angstpuppy**. 100 words

**You Win**

It starts with a spoon. It’s childish but it’s not exactly the worst thing Sam’s put in his mouth. Or, more specifically, that Dean’s put in his mouth. A spoon he can live with. It was more or less clean anyway, if being licked by Dean can be considered clean.

But then there’s the pen. And the cigarette. And the unrolled condom. Moving on to a pink feather Sam won’t ask where Dean found and six pieces of beef jerky Sam almost chokes on.

Enough is enough. He fakes sleep, ready for anything.

But nothing prepared him for Dean’s tongue.

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000bk6q0/) Sam/Dean for [](http://nashmaveric.livejournal.com/profile)[**nashmaveric**](http://nashmaveric.livejournal.com/). 200 words. Icon by [](http://angstpuppy.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://angstpuppy.livejournal.com/)**angstpuppy**

**A Tasty Treat**

“Dude!”

Sam glances over at Dean, frowning. “What?” He’s got the crossbow aimed at the one on the right, his machete ready in his left hand if any of them come any closer.

“Stop doing that!” Dean hisses, shifting his eyes from a girl that’s slowly advancing from his other side and then back to Sam.

“What?” Sam repeats, pretty sure he’s not doing anything he shouldn’t. Except being here with five vampires who are about to eat them.

“Offering yourself up like a goddamn smorgasbord,” Dean growls, shifting the large knife in his hand before reaching out to flip up Sam’s collar.

Sam stares at him incredulously. That’s when the vampires attack.

It’s over quickly. Three lie headless on the floor as the remaining two sink limply to their knees, poisoned by dead man’s blood. Dean beheads them in one swift motion and then they stand, breathing in the smell of blood and death, staring at each other.

“Ok,” Sam finally says. “What was that about?”

Dean purses his lips and then he’s suddenly in Sam’s face, pushing him up against the wall.

“This,” he says and bites Sam’s neck hard enough that he yelps. “I don’t like sharing.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for character death

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000arrxh/) for [](http://siberian-skys.livejournal.com/profile)[**siberian_skys**](http://siberian-skys.livejournal.com/) Icon by [](http://deadwillwalk.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://deadwillwalk.livejournal.com/)**deadwillwalk** Dean. 200 words

 

**Reading Between The Lines**

His father’s handwriting reads like a story on its own. On average the letters are neat and precise, facts jotted down with a clear and focused mind. A hunter’s report, a summary of research.

But then there are times when it’s so shaky Dean can hardly read the words, bloody fingerprints smudging them. Each letter pressed deep into the surface, some underlined for emphasis. “Close one,” they read or “Dean needed six stitches.” Simple words that would sound cold if it weren’t for the way they’re written.

His mother’s name is doodled on the margins – Mary, Mary – as if writing it down made her a participant in their lives. “I promise” and “Sam walked today” and “Dean would make you so proud.” Mary, Mary.

Tiny tidbits of their life. “Sammy started school” and “Dean is having nightmares.” “Damn CPS” and “Why does he never listen?” “I gave Dean the Impala.” “I didn’t mean to hit him.” “It hurts how much he looks like you.”

Mary, Mary.

Then “Sam is gone” and “I failed” and “Dean is drunk again.”

Dean runs his fingertips over the words, trying to feel the love he knows lies behind them. He feels nothing.

 

"Читая между строк" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/)

Почерк отца может сам рассказать целую историю. Обычно буквы четкие и аккуратные, разные факты записаны ясно и скурпулезно. Отчет охотника, итог расследования.

Но иногда Дин едва может разобрать слова, заляпанные кровавыми отпечатками пальцев. Каждая буква словно вдавлена в страницу, что-то даже выделено подчеркиванием. «Еле спаслись» или «Дину наложили шесть швов». Простые слова могли бы показаться равнодушными, если бы не то, как они написаны.

Мамино имя на всех полях — Мэри, Мэри — словно так она могла стать частью их жизни. «Я обещаю», и «Сэм сегодня ушел», и «Ты бы гордилась Дином». Мэри, Мэри.

Крошечные осколки их жизни. «Сэмми пошел в школу» и «У Дина кошмары». «Чертовы органы опеки», «Почему он никогда не слушает?» и «Я отдал Дину Импалу». «Я не хотел ударить его». «Он похож на тебя — так больно».

Мэри, Мэри.

Потом «Сэма больше нет», «Я виноват» и «Дин снова напился».

Дин касается пальцами слов, пытаясь почувствовать скрытую в них любовь. Но — ничего.

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000asq2h/) Gen for [](http://menomegirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**menomegirl**](http://menomegirl.livejournal.com/) Icon by [](http://causette.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://causette.livejournal.com/)**causette** 100 words. Spoilers for 2.22

 

 

**Into My Arms, O Lord**

 

There’s blood and there’s dirt and you smell like rain. Like sweat and sulphur and greasy hair. Your skin is wet, sticky, and you’re warm. Sammy, you’re _warm_. There’s stubble on your face, scratching my skin, and your too damn long hair tickles my nose. One of these days I’m gonna cut it as you sleep, I swear to God. I swear… Sammy? I can feel you, I can smell you. So don’t tell me you’re not here. Don’t you tell me that! I’m here now and I’ve got you and I’m not letting go. I’m not letting go. Sam!

 

"В моих руках, Господи" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Кровь, грязь, а ты пахнешь дождем. Потом, серой и немытыми волосами. У тебя влажная липкая кожа, и ты теплый. Сэмми, ты теплый. Твоя щетина царапает мне подбородок, а чертова челка щекочет нос. Однажды я отстригу ее тебе во сне, клянусь Богом. Я клянусь... Сэмми? Я чувствую тебя, твой запах. Так не смей говорить, что тебя уже нет. Не смей! Я здесь, я держу тебя и не отпущу. Я не отпущу. Сэм!

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000atqz9/) for [](http://stars91.livejournal.com/profile)[**stars91**](http://stars91.livejournal.com/) Icon by [](http://e0wyn.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://e0wyn.livejournal.com/)**e0wyn** 100 words. Spoilers for 2.09

 

 

**And So Here We Are**

The metallic click makes Sam flinch as if it’s the sound of Dean cocking his gun, not locking the door. In a way there’s not much difference.

Sam’s breathing heavily, sniffling as he wipes angrily at the tears running down his face. They’re not for himself, but Dean, and the weight of them is breaking Dean’s heart.

All his life Sam’s fought against what others think his lot in life should be. But this, his own death, he accepts easily, only shedding tears over Dean’s stubborn refusal to save himself.

His little brother’s grown up. Just in time to die.

 

"А вот и мы" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/)**wayward_jr** )

Сэм вздрагивает от металлического щелчка, словно Дин взводит курок, а не запирает дверь. По большому счету разницы никакой.

Он тяжело дышит, шмыгает носом и вытирает бегущие по щекам слезы. Сэм плачет не из-за себя, а из-за Дина, и его слезы разбивают Дину сердце.

Всю свою жизнь Сэм боролся против того, что другие считали его судьбой. Но свою смерть он принимает легко; слезы — из-за нежелания Дина думать о собственном спасении.

Младший брат вырос. Самое время, чтобы умереть


	10. Chapter 10

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000ahpte/) for [](http://altyronsmaker.livejournal.com/profile)[**altyronsmaker**](http://altyronsmaker.livejournal.com/) Icon by [](http://angstpuppy.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://angstpuppy.livejournal.com/)**angstpuppy** 100 words

 

**Alive and Kissing**

 

It’s kinda crazy, the way Dean always worries about him. Yeah, so maybe this time he’s kinda entitled. The whole blowing up thing, thinking his little brother was dead? Sam would have been pretty freaked out himself if it had been him on the other end.

Still, Sam’s alright - apart from a few scratches and feeling like he just went three rounds with a fucking rhino - so really, Dean can let go of him any second now. No need to paw him all over or gaze at him like that or… uhm, kiss him? Dude, that’s… wow.

Oh, ok.

 

"Жизнь и поцелуи" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Беспокойство Дина о нем выходит за рамки нормального. Ладно, может в этот раз брат и прав. Все кругом взрывается, мысль о том, что он мертв... Если бы Сэм оказался на месте Дина, то тоже бы сошел с ума от ужаса.

Тем не менее, Сэм в порядке — ну не считая пары царапин и ощущения, что по нему пробежало стадо носорогов — и Дин уже может отпустить его. И нечего его ощупывать, или смотреть так, или... эээ, целовать? Чувак, ты... вау.

Хм, о'кей.

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000ak7ka/) for [](http://crazyjoyfulgirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**crazyjoyfulgirl**](http://crazyjoyfulgirl.livejournal.com/) Icon by [](http://lidi.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://lidi.livejournal.com/)**lidi** 100 words

 

**The Closest Thing To Heaven**

As wrong as it sounds, being kissed by Sam is the closest Dean comes to feeling the way he did in his mother’s arms. Sam’s big hand cradles the back of his head, fingers splayed over his cranium the same way Dean remembers her holding Sam as a baby. Sam smells like home and family where all the girls Dean’s ever kissed smelled like strangers, belonging to a world he doesn’t fit in. Sam’s big and warm and… above all safe. It’s the only times, since that night, that Dean feels as if he’s the one being taken care of.

 

"Почти как в Раю" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Может это неправильно, но поцелуи брата дарят Дину почти такое же чувство как мамины объятья. Большая ладонь Сэма нежно придерживает его затылок, обхватывая пальцами точно так же, как Дин держал малыша Сэмми в свое время. Сэм пахнет домом и семьей. Девчонки Дина всегда пахли незнакомым миром, где ему не было места. Сэм большой, и теплый, и... самое главное, безопасный. В такие минуты, впервые с той ночи, Дин чувствует, что это о нем заботятся, а не наоборот.

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000ap04f/) for [](http://winchestergirl.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://winchestergirl.livejournal.com/)**winchestergirl**. Wincest/Jsquared. 200 words

 

**Life On The Other Side**

It shouldn’t affect him like this. Really. It’s not like it’s actually them even if the resemblance is striking.

These guys, they’re prettier, shinier, in a typical Hollywood kinda way. No scars blemishing their skin, no grief clouding their eyes. If they happen to look tired it’s because they stayed up late drinking or partying. Or fucking. Not because they were digging up corpses with goddamn snow drizzling down their necks or were tracking werewolves through pitch-dark woods with a fucking bullet in their leg. Their lives, these plastic, too-good-to-be-true lives, are as far from Sam and Dean’s every day reality as the truth is from “normal” people.

But when that Jared guy looks at Jensen with a smile that tells it all, cameras flashing all around them as they hug tight, Sam can’t help wishing that just for once Dean would look at him like that, when it’s bright and sunny and everyone can see. That Sam, like Jared, could shout it out to the whole fucking world how much Dean means to him without risking Dean clubbing him one or trying to exorcise his pathetic ass.

Then again, that Jared guy kinda looks like a pussy.

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000aq7p7/) for [](http://angstpuppy.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://angstpuppy.livejournal.com/)**angstpuppy**. 100 words

 

**Innocence Kept**

When Dean kisses Sam for the first time he signs away his soul to the Devil.

Not literally, that doesn’t happen until years later, but for all it means he could have. For over a year he’s been watching Sam struggling, longing looks and nervous touches, all leading up to this moment. Dean can’t stop it, it’s bound to happen no matter what he does. So when Sam suddenly turns to him, insecurity replaced with determination, Dean leans over and kisses him first.

At least this way, when called to face the consequences, the burden of guilt lies with him.

 

"Сохранив невинность" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/)**wayward_jr** )

Поцеловав Сэма в первый раз, Дин продает душу Дьяволу.

Не буквально, до этого еще несколько лет, но это мало меняет. Больше года он наблюдал за внутренней борьбой Сэма, страстными взглядами, робкими прикосновениями — все вело к этой минуте. Дин не в силах остановить происходящее, это судьба. Так что, когда Сэм внезапно разворачивается — неуверенность сменяется убежденностью, Дин наклоняется и целует его первым.

По крайней мере, когда придется столкнуться с последствиями, во всем виноват будет только он.

Three gen and one X5-494/Sam ficlet coming up.


	11. Chapter 11

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0002fkt4/) for [](http://nimenic.livejournal.com/profile)[**nimenic**](http://nimenic.livejournal.com/). Icon by [](http://clouds-of-white.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://clouds-of-white.livejournal.com/)**clouds_of_white**. 100 words. Wincest.  
This one derives from a conversation the boys had in [The Weirdness Of Normal](http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/450322.html) but can stand on its own.

 

**Past Sins**

Whenever they drive through the red-light districts of any town, passing the rows of prostitutes lined up like meat on hooks, Sam feels a lump in his throat and a tightening in his chest that has little to do with the miserable display and everything to do with the stiffening of Dean’s shoulders and the thin line of his lips. Sam never knows what to say so he keeps quiet, breathing out silently when the last whore disappears in the rearview mirror.

They’ve never mentioned it again but still it clings to every dollar bill Dean pulls from his pockets.

 

"Грехи прошлого" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Всякий раз, когда они проезжают через квартал красных фонарей, мимо шлюх, выставленных как мясо на крюках, у Сэма перехватывает дыхание, а в горле застревает комок. Но не от жалкого зрелища вокруг, а от напряженных плеч Дина и тонкой линии его сжатых губ. Сэм не знает, что сказать, поэтому всегда молчит и тихо выдыхает, когда последняя проститутка скрывается в зеркале заднего вида.

Они об этом больше не говорили, но каждый доллар, что Дин вынимает из кармана, кажется липким.

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0002k6r9/) for [](http://siberian-skys.livejournal.com/profile)[**siberian_skys**](http://siberian-skys.livejournal.com/). Icon by [](http://lostmemento.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://lostmemento.livejournal.com/)**lostmemento**. 100 words. Wincest

 

**"Today I Got Strangled And My Brother Was Thrown Into A Wall. It Was The Best Day Ever!"**

Ok, it’s not like Dean’s jealous. Really, that would be ridiculous. He’s not, like, insane or anything. But a man has his needs, you know? And when they’re not being met? He gets cranky.

See, he’s a simple man. Favorite food? Burger and fries. Drink? Beer. Past time? Sammy. On his knees or his back or even bottoms up. Dean’s not picky. As long as Sam’s naked, it’s all good.

And right now? He’s not naked. And what’s worse, he’s ignoring Dean! Now Dean’s a patient man, but there are limits. And enough is enough.

That Livejournal is going down.

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0002ptxf/) for [](http://drankmywar.livejournal.com/profile)[**drankmywar**](http://drankmywar.livejournal.com/). Icon by [](http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/890709.html#)[](http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/890709.html#)**_adhara**. 100 words. Wincest. Spoilers for 201.

 

**All My Dreams Are Fading**

The sun is beating down on them, warming the slightly chilly October air. Underneath Dean’s palms the Impala’s hood is hot, the engine still ticking quietly as it slowly cools down.

Was a time this was all he wanted. His car, the open road and his brother by his side. These were the kind of moments they snuck off to have, free from John’s watchful eyes. Just Dean and Sam and wet lips on warm skin.

Now there’s no one to hide from anymore but then again there’s nothing to hide either. And isn't that just the epitome of irony?

 

"Все мои мечты рассыпались в прах" (Ru8ssian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Солнце ярко светит, согревая прохладный октябрьский воздух. Под ладонью Дина горячий капот Импалы, двигатель едва слышно тикает, остывая.

Было время, когда он мечтал лишь об этом. Детка, прямая дорога и брат рядом. Это были те краткие мгновения, когда они умудрялись улизнуть от зорких глаз Джона. Лишь Дин, Сэм и влажные губы на теплой коже.

Теперь больше не от кого прятаться, но, с другой стороны, и прятать тоже стало нечего. Это ли не настоящая насмешка судьбы?

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0002s5d4/) for [](http://azure-k-mello.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://azure-k-mello.livejournal.com/)**azure_k_mello** Her own icon. 200 words.

 

**Protector**

John stands over the narrow bed, watching his boys sleep. Dean's right hand rests on little Sammy’s belly, dried tear-tracks streaking his stubborn face. Every time Sammy sighs or mumbles Dean shifts closer, ink-stained fingers grasping for hold on the worn t-shirt serving as Sammy’s sleepwear.

Not even two months in school and already Dean’s been called to the principal office five times and sent home at least once a week. They call him difficult. Troubled. There’s talk about ADHD and Ritalin and John smashes his fist into the counselor’s desk.

John knows exactly what’s wrong. He can see it in the fear coloring Dean’s eyes every time he has to leave Sammy in the arms of Mrs. Rinez, Sammy’s cries following Dean all the way to the school bus. It’s in the trembling of Dean’s lips as he watches the other children kiss their mother’s goodbye. It’s the guilt he feels for sitting in school, learning what to him seem useless things, instead of being home, helping his dad sort the ammo.

It’s in Dean's evident relief when he finally gets back home and finds Sammy waiting for him. Crying and wet and still not talking. But alive.

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0002t0wg/) for [](http://crazyjoyfulgirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**crazyjoyfulgirl**](http://crazyjoyfulgirl.livejournal.com/) , icon by [](http://exsequar.livejournal.com/profile)[**exsequar**](http://exsequar.livejournal.com/) , manip by [](http://mkitty3.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://mkitty3.livejournal.com/)**mkitty3**. 100 words. Wincest

 

**Yours For The Taking**

Dean had forgotten Sam could be so… forceful. He can’t help wondering if Sam was like this with Jess or if it’s something he kept under lock for those four years. Probably, since if anything he’s even more aggressive now than before.

Dean carries scrapes from walls and concrete floors like brands of ownership on his skin. Teeth marks decorate his neck and shoulders, fingerprints sign Sammy’s name on his hips. Every part of his body is obsessively claimed as Sam’s possession and Dean gives it all freely.

He’d offer his heart on a plate if Sam only wanted it.

"Только твой" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/)**wayward_jr** )

Дин и забыл, что Сэм может быть таким... жестким. Интересно, с Джесс было так же? Или же Сэм сдерживался все эти годы? Скорее второе, сейчас он гораздо агрессивнее, чем раньше.

Царапины от стен и бетонных полов на спине Дина горят тавром на коже. Следы зубов украшают плечи и спину, отпечатки пальцев выписывают имя Сэма на бедрах. Сэм одержим телом брата; считает его своей собственностью, а Дин не может ему отказать.

Он бы предложил свое сердце на тарелке, если бы Сэм только захотел.


	12. Chapter 12

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0002a32k/) for [](http://jemalfoy.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://jemalfoy.livejournal.com/)**jemalfoy**. Her own icon. 100 words. Wincest.

**The Power of Caffeine**

Mornings are usually divided into DBC and DAC. Dean Before Coffee is like sour lemons while Dean After Coffee is more like lemon juice, although the sweetness varies. Sam has called him an addict more times than he can remember but Dean just shrugs it off, gulping the hot liquid down as fast as he can before demanding a refill.

Sam never used to drink coffee before Stanford and although he blames late night studying for starting, the truth is he just missed the smell. Except coffee never tasted the same from a cup as it did from Dean’s lips.

"Сила кофеина" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/)

Утро обычно делится на ДДК и ДПК. Дин До Кофе сравним лишь с кислыми лимонами, а Дин После Кофе больше похож на лимонный сок разной степени сладости. Сэм обзывал его кофеманом миллион раз, но Дин лишь пожимает плечами и выпивает обжигающую жидкость одним глотком, тут же требуя повторить.

До Стэнфорда Сэм никогда не пил кофе. Он сколько угодно может винить ночи зубрежки, но правда в том, что он скучал по аромату. Увы, кофе из чашки нельзя было сравнить с кофейным вкусом губ Дина.

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0002bsqb/) for [](http://chatona.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://chatona.livejournal.com/)**chatona**. Her own icon. 100 words. Wincest.

 

**Highway To Hell**

Thing is… Thing is that before Stanford Sammy was a scrawny kid with too long legs and hands like spiders. Didn’t change the fact that feeling those long fingers slide over his stomach as Sam pressed up against him in his sleep gave Dean such a hard-on he had trouble breathing. Blaming the lack of space Dean started sleeping on the couch, despite Sammy’s obvious hurt.

But now… Christ, it’s all Dean can do not to come on the spot the first time Sam walks out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and the smell of innocence.

Fuck.

 

"Прямая дорога в Ад" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Дело в том... Дело в том, что до Стэнфорда Сэмми был тощим пацаном с длинными ногами и руками как паучьи лапки. Наплевать, что от ощущения этих самых пальцев на животе, когда Сэм прижимался к нему во сне, у Дина вставало так, аж дышать было трудно. Отмазавшись теснотой, Дин начал спать на кушетке, не смотря на явно обиженного Сэма.

Но сейчас, Господи, лишь усилием воли Дин не кончил прямо в штаны, когда Сэм простодушно вышел из душа лишь в одном полотенце.

Блядь.

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0002d73f/) for [](http://blue-icy-rose.livejournal.com/profile)[**blue_icy_rose**](http://blue-icy-rose.livejournal.com/). Icon by [](http://speakfree.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://speakfree.livejournal.com/)**speakfree**. 100 words.

 

**Your Face Is My Canvas**

Sometimes Sam gazes at Dean and wonders if his own face looks just as worn and weary as his brother’s. For all their scars and bruises gathered through the years, Fortune has smiled upon Dean’s face, making sure he sports no more than a few silvery lines. So thin they are hardly visible unless you know where to look.

Aren’t the scars or the bruises under Dean’s eyes though that make Sam pause. It's more the lines around his mouth and eyes. Lines of laughter that have long faded and been replaced with evidence of what their lives have become.

 

"Твое лицо мой холст" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Иногда Сэм замирает и смотрит на Дина, спрашивая себя: его собственное лицо такое же усталое и тоскливое как у брата? Несмотря на шрамы и синяки, собранные за все годы, Фортуна улыбнулась Дину, и на его лице осталось лишь пара едва заметных линий. Таких тонких, что их трудно увидеть, если не присматриваться.

Но Сэм медлит не из-за шрамов и синяков под глазами Дина. Дело в морщинках вокруг губ и глаз. Те, что появились от улыбок и смеха — давно исчезли и уступили место следам горькой реальности их жизни.

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0002epas/) for [](http://bayouskye.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://bayouskye.livejournal.com/)**bayouskye**. Her own icon. 100 words.

 

**Left Out**

You know, just once she’d like to be invited to join them. Really, is it too much to ask? They could bring their beer out and sit on her even. She wouldn’t mind, even if her little Sammy is getting scary big. She can carry the weight. And it’s not like they don’t eat and drink and fucking spread their shit all over her backseat anyway and does she ever complain? No. Except maybe cough occasionally but hey! She needs an oil change anyway.

And still her boys would rather drink beer with that… bimbo, than her. Just not fair.

 

"Покинутая" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Знаете, вот хоть раз можно было бы и ее пригласить. Ну правда, неужели она просит слишком много? Они могли бы взять пиво и сесть на нее. Она бы не возражала, пусть малыш Сэмми и здорово вымахал. Она выдержит. Тем более, что они и так едят, пьют и бросают мусор на ее заднее сиденье, а она даже не жалуется! Ну, может, кашлянет пару раз. Но ей уже давно пора поменять масло.

Тем не менее ее мальчики предпочитают пить пиво с этой... бимбо, а не с ней. Нечестно.

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0002hyc1/) for [](http://killerweasel.livejournal.com/profile)[**killerweasel**](http://killerweasel.livejournal.com/). Icon by [](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/)**bittersweet_art**. 100 words.

 

**Guns Don't Kill People...**

He’s always liked guns. The feel of them in his hand, the acid smell, the slowly heating metal molding his grip. He learned to use a gun the year before he learned to read so they’ve always felt more natural to him than pretty words on paper.

But lately his guns have felt heavier to hold. Colder. The metallic smell more like blood than steel. He wonders if it’s because he’s used them to kill innocent human beings.

Or if maybe it’s because he itches to kill more and the fact that it doesn’t even repulse him scares him breathless.

 

"Не оружие убивает людей..." (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/)**wayward_jr** )

Он всегда любил оружие. Ощущение в руке, едкий запах, медленно согревающийся металл в ладони. Он научился стрелять на год раньше, чем читать. Так что оружие всегда казалось ему более естественным, чем красивые слова на бумаге.

С недавних пор оружие стало тяжелее. Холоднее. Металлический запах чаще напоминает о крови, чем о стали. Интересно, это потому, что он убивал невинных людей?

Или потому, что он теперь жаждет убивать? И ему безумно страшно от того, что это желание не вызывает у него отвращения.


	13. Chapter 13

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0001gt3k/) for [](http://azure-k-mello.livejournal.com/profile)[**azure_k_mello**](http://azure-k-mello.livejournal.com/). 200 words. Drawing by [](http://urdsama.livejournal.com/profile)[**urdsama**](http://urdsama.livejournal.com/) , icon by [](http://potthead.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://potthead.livejournal.com/)**potthead**

 

 

**Setting Things Straight**

“Goddamn sonofabitch!”

“Well, what did you expect, Dean? You really thought he’d just back off and let you leave with his girlfriend? The guy was like three hundred pounds, all muscle.”

“Shut up. Besides that’s not what it was about.”

“No? Looked that way to me. You’d been drooling on that girl’s shoulders for an hour when he showed up.”

“The music was loud, ok? It was hard hearing what she was saying.”

“Yeah, right. So what was it about then?”

“Nothing.”

“No, you’re the one that mentioned it. Spill.”

“It was about you, ok?”

“Me? Dean, why would some stranger give a fuck about me.”

“He called you my pussy boyfriend. So I had to smack him.”

“Oh. Why?”

“Why did I have to smack him? He insulted the family name, dude. No one calls my brother a pussy except me.”

“Great, thanks. No, why did he think I was your boyfriend?”

“What do I know? He said some crap about you mooning over me like you were jealous or something. Told me to take you home and fuck you instead of trying to get my leg over his beloved. The guy was obviously on drugs.”

“Oh. Yeah. Obviously.”

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0001h49s/) for [](http://eponin10.livejournal.com/profile)[**eponin10**](http://eponin10.livejournal.com/). 100 words. Icon by [](http://neversince.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://neversince.livejournal.com/)**neversince**

 

 

**Shadowed Secrets**

Sometimes Sam finds himself wondering what he missed those four years he was away at Stanford. Dean is changed, so much that there are times Sam feels like he’s looking at a complete stranger. The eyes are darker, more cautious. The slick surface that always seemed so impenetrable is showing cracks that both scare and fascinate him. He wants to see what’s underneath, wants to get to know the man that used to be just his brother.

But most of all Sam wants to know if the reason Dean keeps watching him is the same as why he watches Dean.

 

"Неизведанные тайны" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/)

Иногда Сэм задается вопросом: что он пропустил за эти четыре года в Стэнфорде? Дин изменился, очень сильно изменился. Порой Сэму кажется, что перед ним совершенно незнакомый человек. Глаза стали темнее, осторожнее. Гладкая непробиваемая броня покрыта трещинами - это одновременно пугает и завораживает. Он хочет увидеть, что же там внутри; узнать ближе того, кто раньше был просто его братом.

Но больше всего Сэм хочет понять, почему Дин смотрит на него столь же пристально, как он на Дина?

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0001k42t/) for [](http://crazyjoyfulgirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**crazyjoyfulgirl**](http://crazyjoyfulgirl.livejournal.com/). 500 words. Icon by [](http://literati.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://literati.livejournal.com/)**literati**

 

 

**Blowing Off Some Steam**

It’s cold, the air still damp with rain and smelling of dead leaves and wet gravel. Water is soaking through his jacket, mixing with the sweat on his back where he’s pushed up against the car. A crow lands at the edge of the road and throws them a curious glance before lifting again, croaking in wonder.

His hands are slipping on the slick wet surface of the car, palms white with cold, fingers slightly aching. His legs are trembling, knees threatening to give in and let him slide to the ground. Probably would if it weren’t for Sam’s big hands splayed across his hips, holding him up. Steam is rising from underneath Sam's mop of brown hair, wispy clouds of warm breath dissolving in the cold air. Each time Sam lets Dean’s cock slide out of his mouth the wet skin gets so chilled that when Sam sucks him back inside the heat is like an inferno around him.

He reaches out to push a wing of hair away from his brother’s face. Sam’s eyes are closed, his cheeks hollowed in concentration, lips slick with spit and Dean’s pre-come. When Dean brushes his thumb over Sam’s brow he opens his eyes and looks up, pupils almost black, eyelashes damp and glittering.

“God, Sammy.”

Sam smiles, lips stretching comically around Dean’s cock as his dimples deepen. He winks wickedly, then wraps his tongue around the head one last time before lettig the cock slide all the way down his throat, eyes watering slightly as he fights not to choke.

“Yeah. Yeah, just like that. God. You’re so good. Come on, Sammy. Yeah. Fuck. Sammysammysammy…”

He’s blabbering, words spilling out as his eyes roll back and then he’s coming, fingers fisted in Sam’s hair, his groans echoing among the trees. Not even Sam has the strength to hold him up now and he allows his knees to buckle, bringing him to the cold and wet ground, marking the knees of his jeans with the same dark patches decorating Sam’s.

“God. Jesus, Sam. You…”

His eyes are still closed as Sam envelopes his face with those huge hands, warm mouth claiming his cold lips, invading them with a tongue so hot Dean thinks it will give him blisters. When Sam finally pulls back, Dean feels faint from the lack of oxygen and he opens his eyes to stare blurrily at Sam, swaying like the slight breeze is enough to knock him over. Probably is. He feels lax, boneless, and calmer than he’s been in a long time.

“Come on, your cock will freeze,” Sam laughs and Dean lets himself be tucked in and then pulled to his feet. Sam hugs him close as he opens the door and then pushes him gently inside. He’s barely able to hold his head upright long enough for the door to close and then he’s leaning against the glass, the cold surface cooling his flushed cheek, eyelids drooping.

He’s asleep before Sam even starts the engine.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for character death

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000162ta/) for [](http://msdillydally.livejournal.com/profile)[**msdillydally**](http://msdillydally.livejournal.com/) 200 words. Set after Scarecrow. Icon by [](http://neversince.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://neversince.livejournal.com/)**neversince**

**Good Enough To Eat**

 

“Dude, are you kidding me? What makes you think I’d even wanna look at another apple after all that shit?”

“Who said anything about looking?”

The bandana slips over the bridge of Dean’s nose, blinding him, just as he catches the wicked glint in Sam’s eyes. He opens his mouth to protest and the sweet smell of apple fills his nostrils as the fruit is thrust in between his teeth. He bites down and fresh apple juice slides over his chin and along his tongue down his throat.

Sam licks the juice slowly off Dean’s skin then pushes him down on the bed, pulling his arms up. Dean grabs the railing, quick nasal breathing as Sam slips the belt from the hoops of his jeans and then wraps it around his wrists. Belt free Dean’s jeans slide off easily, leaving him in only his boxer briefs and t-shirt, riding up his belly.

“Look at you.” Sam laughs a low seductive chuckle that makes Dean squirm and his cock jump. “No wonder they were gonna sacrifice you. I’m surprised they didn’t eat you.”

Dean feels a bit like a roasted pig but who cares as long as it’s Sam devouring him.

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/00017ypx/) for [](http://bayouskye.livejournal.com/profile)[**bayouskye**](http://bayouskye.livejournal.com/) 100 words. Set between ep. 201 and 202. Icon by [](http://bayouskye.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://bayouskye.livejournal.com/)**bayouskye**

 

**One More Burden**

Dean blames him. Which is so insane Sam doesn’t even know how to react. As if he isn’t feeling guilty enough about dad and Jess and mom and who knows how many others that have died because of him. Now he has to feel guilty for wrecking the damn car?

Not that Dean actually says anything but Sam knows. It’s in the looks Dean shoots him as he runs his fingers over every scratch, every twisted piece of metal, while limping his way around the wreck.

Isn’t until later Sam realises it wasn’t about the car at all. Or him.

 

"Еще одно бремя" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Дин обвиняет его. Это безумие, Сэм даже не знает как реагировать. Как будто ему недостаточно вины за папу и Джесс, за маму и бог знает скольких людей, умерших из-за него. Теперь он еще виноват в том, что разбил чертову машину?

Нет, Дин ничего не говорит, но Сэм знает. Упрек скрывается в каждом взгляде Дина, когда он, прихрамывая, обходит искореженную машину и проводит пальцами по каждой царапине, каждой вмятине.

Лишь позже Сэм понимает, дело вовсе не в машине. И не в нем.

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000184ka/) for [](http://siberian-skys.livejournal.com/profile)[**siberian_skys**](http://siberian-skys.livejournal.com/) 100 words. Spoiler for ep. 201. Icon by [](http://ongiara.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://ongiara.livejournal.com/)**ongiara**

**What Lies Beneath**

Dean finds himself watching Sam, staring at him with a mix of dread and wonder. The strong jaw, the wide nostrils, that mole on the side of his nose. The vacant eyes. He wonders what Sam’s thinking; if he’s remembering Jess or dad or worrying about his place in the Demon’s big scheme.

Or if he’s maybe, just maybe, thinking of Dean. The kiss they shared that morning, the sex they had last night. The words Dean mumbled in Sam’s ear without even realizing until they were out. The answer he didn’t get even if he knew Sam was awake.

 

"То, что скрыто внутри" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Дин ловит себя на том, что наблюдает за Сэмом, вглядывается в него одновременно с ужасом и восхищением. Сильный подбородок, широкие ноздри, родинка на боку носа. Пустые глаза. Интересно, о чем Сэм думает: вспоминает Джесс или волнуется о своей роли в большой игре Демона?

Или возможно, вероятно, думает о Дине. Об утреннем поцелуе, о сексе прошлой ночью. О словах, что Дин неосознанно пробормотал Сэму в ухо. Об ответе, которого он не дождался, хотя был уверен в том, что Сэм не спит.

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0001by9p/) for [](http://judas-denied.livejournal.com/profile)[**judas_denied**](http://judas-denied.livejournal.com/) 100 words + 100 words. The first one was so depressing I did another. lol. Icon by [](http://judas-denied.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://judas-denied.livejournal.com/)**judas_denied**

 

**A Simple Choice**

**“Are you sure?”**

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation, no doubt. He stands straight despite the wound in his side slowly draining his veins, eyes steady, breath shallow.

**“He plays a big part in what’s to come but your part is more important. The loss of your life will bring death to many. You still want this?”**

“Will he live?”

**“Yes.”**

“Then bring it on, dude.”

**“As you wish.”**

There’s a flash of light and then the pain is fading away just as he hears Sam draw in a breath, gasping his name.

_Sorry, Sammy. Never thought it would end like thi…_

 

"Легкий выбор" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/)

**— Ты уверен?**

— Да.

Без колебания, без сомнения. Он стоит прямо, несмотря на кровоточащую рану в боку, упрямые глаза, поверхностное дыхание.

**— Он должен сыграть важную роль в будущем, но ты важнее. Потеря твоей жизни принесет смерть многим. Ты все еще хочешь этого?**

— Он выживет?

**— Да.**

— Тогда от винта, чувак.

**— Как пожелаешь.**

Вспышка света и боль отступает. Сэм тут же делает вдох с его именем на губах.

_— Прости, Сэмми. Никогда не думал, что все закончится вот та..._

 

 

2nd take

**Life In All Its Simplicity and Chaos**

Sometimes he forgets that life isn’t supposed to be like this. That there are people who don’t even know what’s out there. Who laugh and cry and fight and fuck and it has nothing whatsoever to do with demons or ghosts. Just life, plain and simple.

He can’t remember feeling a single emotion that can’t be linked to the supernatural, or doing anything without the constant awareness of evil.

So when Sam kisses him for the first time, his thoughts don’t go to ‘incest’ or ‘wrong’ but rather ‘possession’ or ‘succubus’. Which still doesn’t explain why he kisses Sam back.

 

"Простота и хаос жизни" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/)

 

Иногда он забывает, что жизнь может быть другой. Что есть люди, которые не подозревают о том, что скрывается в темноте. Которые смеются, плачут, дерутся, трахаются и не имеют ничего общего с демонами и призраками. Лишь живут, заурядно и просто.

Он не может вспомнить ни одной эмоции, не связанной со сверхъестественным; ни одного поступка, совершенного без оглядки на подкрадывающееся зло.

И когда Сэм впервые целует его, он думает не "инцест" или "нельзя", а "одержимость" или "суккуб". Что совершенно не отменяет того, что он целует Сэма в ответ.

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0001c4a9/) for [](http://siberian-skys.livejournal.com/profile)[**siberian_skys**](http://siberian-skys.livejournal.com/) 300 words. Icon by [](http://oolitter.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://oolitter.livejournal.com/)**oolitter**

 

**Incognito**

He’s lost in thought, mind wandering to a far darker and sinister place than the cheerful, if slightly greasy, diner they’re in. His gaze is fixated on his coffee swirling in the cracked mug as he stirs it, worrying his lower lip absentmindedly, when he suddenly feels Sam’s warm breath on his cheek and Sam’s freakishly long arm sliding across his back, hugging him close.

“Dude, what the fuck?” He tries pushing Sam away but Sam only laughs softly and presses his lips against Dean’s cheek, tongue darting out to lick the shadowing stubble.

“Sam! We’re in a fucking diner!” His mind is racing, panicking as he looks around, expecting everyone to stare and point and possibly burn them at the stake for what they’re doing. “Whatsamatter with you?”

“Sshh, chill.” Sam nudges him gently with his nose, his other hand sliding under the table and settling on Dean’s thigh. “We’re in San Francisco, man. Just look around you.”

There are two girls cooing to each other over an ice cream sundae on the other side of the diner. On their right a young man is greeting his boyfriend with a soft kiss.

“It’s not the same, Sam! They’re not…” Dean lowers his voice to a hissed whisper, swapping Sam’s hand away from his thigh. “… fucking related!”

“Dean, neither are we.”

Dean jerks back, staring at him. “What? Are you fucking kidding me? Is this your idea of a joke?”

“Dean.” Sam just smiles and pulls out his wallet, flipping it open. “Look. I’m…” He pulls out a credit card, frowning. “… Ben Holdaway and you’re… David Lowe.”

“Those aren’t real! You know that.”

“I know.” Sam leans closer, licking a trail up Dean’s neck. “But they don’t. They have no idea who or what we are. Lover.”

Oh.

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/0001d3cz/) for [](http://bayouskye.livejournal.com/profile)[**bayouskye**](http://bayouskye.livejournal.com/) 400 words. Mind!Masturbation!! Spoiler for 2.02. Icon by [](http://bayouskye.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://bayouskye.livejournal.com/)**bayouskye**

**Jealous Mind or 'Look, Dean! No hands!'**

 

He can feel Sam’s eyes boring into his neck and just knows his brother’s lips are a thin line of irritation, his fingers gripping the glass of water hard enough to whiten the knuckles. Jo smiles coquettishly and Dean gives her a stilted smile back, hoping Sam won’t be able to tell from where he sits but he swears he can feel the jealousy burning a hole in his skin.

He’s just about to turn around and give Sam a back-off glare, when he feels it. A hand sliding over his thigh, then moving up to cup his balls. He’s not sure which freaks him out more, the fact that both of Sam’s hands are still resting on the table or that it’s a skin-to-skin touch, just as real as the one he enjoyed in the stolen pickup only fifteen minutes ago. He glances down, sees nothing, and shoots a shocked look at Sam who gazes back, looking angelically innocent. ‘What the fuck?’ he mouths and Sam blinks, a surprised smile softening his lips. Ellen is talking so Dean turns to face her but he’s not really listening, he’s having enough trouble keeping his eyes steady and his mouth from falling open in a silent moan. He just nods and licks his lips, trying to look like he’s actually interested while his mind is reeling and his cock throbs in his pants. Luckily Ash swaggers in just then, carrying what looks like a computer engineer’s wet and rather messy dream, and his gasp is interpreted as awe. Which, to tell the truth, isn’t far off although it all belongs to Sam.

They finally leave, Dean offering Jo an apologetic smile before closing the door behind them, and they walk to the car in silence. His wet jeans chafe the sensitive skin of his cock, reminding him yet again of the necessity of doing laundry, but he keeps quiet until the Roadhouse has disappeared in a cloud of dust before glancing at Sam, raising his eyebrow in query.

“Picked up a new skill there, Sammy?”

“Had to do something to keep myself occupied while you’re working on the damn car.” Sam blushes, unable to keep the grin away. “Had no idea it would work though.”

“Oh, it worked.” Dean leans back, breathing out slowly before flashing Sam a satisfied grin of his own. “It worked just fine. But keep on practicing.”


	15. Chapter 15

100 words for [](http://ely-jan.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://ely-jan.livejournal.com/)**ely_jan** based on this icon: 

 

**A Glint of a Promise**

Okay, this time it had definitely been there.  
  
A spark, hidden behind the usual mix of irritation and 'whatever, Sam' in Dean's rolling eyes.  
A tiny twitch of thin lips, a few unneeded blinks, a slight deepening of breath. Not just his imagination, no way.

Smiling softly Sam leaned back and closed his eyes, the familiar murmur of the engine giving him a soothing feeling of nostalgia while the tingling in his gut promised an interesting future. Now all he had to figure out was how to turn that spark into a blazing fire. An easy task for a Winchester.

 

"Проблеск надежды" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

Стоп, сейчас она точно там была.

Искорка в глазах Дина, спрятавшаяся за обычной смесью раздражения и "как скажешь, Сэм".

Едва заметное движение сжатых губ, пара случайных взглядов, чуть более глубокий вдох. Это не могло быть просто игрой воображения, ни за что.

С легкой улыбкой Сэм откинулся на сиденье и закрыл глаза. Знакомый шум двигателя убаюкивал и вызывал ностальгию, тогда как азарт внутри обещал интересное будущее. Теперь ему осталось лишь придумать, как раздуть искру в пламя. Пара пустяков для Винчестера.

 

 

 

100 words for [](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/)**bittersweet_art** based on this icon: 

**Many A Winding Turn**

“Sam, it's okay. Sam...”

Another coughing fit choked his words and he doubled over as pain cut through his belly.

“Shut up, Dean.”

He was hauled to his feet again, the tight grip around his waist painful but comforting.

“You gotta run. Get the fuck out of here. Leave me.”

“Yeah, like that's gonna happen.”

Sam's voice shook but he didn't slow down, just kept on going, finally hoisting Dean over his shoulder when his legs crumbled, the beast's breath licking their necks.

It sometimes paid off, Dean thought just before he passed out, having a giant for a brother.

 

"Очередной поворот" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/) )

— Сэм, все нормально. Сэм...

Слова заглушил очередной приступ кашля, и Дин согнулся от режущей боли в животе.

— Заткнись, Дин.

Его снова поставили на ноги, крепко обхватив вокруг талии — одновременно причиняя боль и успокаивая.

— Беги. Выбирайся отсюда. Брось меня.

— Ага, размечтался.

Голос Сэма дрожал, но он продолжал двигаться и в конце концов перекинул Дина через плечо, когда у того подогнулись ноги. Зверь дышал им в спины.

Иногда здорово, когда у тебя великан вместо брата, подумал Дин и потерял сознание.

 

 

 

200 words for [](http://madders.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://madders.livejournal.com/)**madders** based on this icon: . Happens at the beginning of _Faith_.

 

**In A Heartbeat**

Afterwards he remembers slipping away. The dark room replaced by warm sun on his face and the smell of grass and summer in the air. Dean's eyes sparkling with laughter, gasps shaking him as he hopelessly tries to fight off Sam's tickling fingers. His heart drumming underneath Sam's fingertips working their way to the spot Sam knows will render his brother helpless. A moment of rare happiness branded into his memories.  
  
And then he's back, water soaking his pants where he kneels on the floor, searching frantically for a flicker of life in Dean's staring eyes. His body too still, too silent, too damn cold. Flickering open his phone Sam calls 911, talking without hearing his own words, but he must have said something right because an eternity later they're there, ripping Dean out of his arms and that's when he realises he's been doing CPR, that that's the reason he can taste Dean on his lips and smell his skin on his fingertips. He wants to push them away, because when has Dean ever needed anyone more than him, but somewhere in the back of his brain still lingers rational thought and he stands shaking, watching Dean's body jerk as his heart stops and is restarted again and again, his pale face covered by the oxygen mask. 'We got to get him to the hospital,' they say. 'Every moment counts.'

That's when he remembers, thinking they mean _that_ moment and every other moment he can and must hold on to, when things were good and Dean was still smiling. And then he realises they do but not like that. That every moment Dean spends lying there, lifeless, is one keeping him from coming back, and that he, Sam, wasted a whole one remembering happiness he might never feel again.

 

"Один удар сердца спустя" (Russian translation by [](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/profile)[**wayward_jr**](http://wayward-jr.livejournal.com/))

Впоследствии он вспоминает, как потерял связь с настоящим. Вместо затхлого помещения он чувствует теплое солнце и аромат травы и лета. Глаза Дина сияют от смеха, он хватает ртом воздух и безуспешно пытается отбиться от щекочущих пальцев брата. Сэм подбирается ближе, точно зная, где коснуться дальше и победить, под подушечками его пальцев стучит сердце. Миг абсолютного счастья оставшийся в памяти навсегда.

И вот он снова на коленях в воде, лихорадочно пытается поймать хоть проблеск жизни в невидящих глазах Дина. Он слишком спокойный, слишком тихий, слишком холодный. Сэм набирает 911, рассказывает о произошедшем не слыша собственных слов. Вероятно, он все сделал правильно, ведь спустя целую вечность парамедики приезжают и вырывают Дина из его рук. Тут Сэм понимает, что все это время делал брату искусственное дыхание и теперь на его губах вкус Дина, а запах кожи — на пальцах. Он хочет оттолкнуть их — разве Дину нужен кто-то кроме него? — но где-то на задворках сознания всплывает рациональная мысль и он отступает, весь дрожа, смотрит как тело Дина дергается, когда сердце останавливается и его запускают снова и снова, а бледное лицо прячут под кислородной маской.

— Ему надо в больницу, — говорят они. — Каждая секунда на счету.

Вот тогда Сэма и накрывает воспоминаниями о тех временах, когда все было хорошо, а Дин улыбался. Они же говорят об этом, да, он за это должен держаться и не отпускать? А затем Сэм понимает, что да, они говорят об этом, но совсем не так. Каждая секунда, пока Дин лежит здесь, безжизненный, каждая из них удерживает его от возвращения, и что он, Сэм, потратил сейчас одну на воспоминания о возможно навсегда утраченном счастье.


End file.
